The female astronaut who has recently been arraigned for attempted murder, following a cross country drive in a diaper has got me thinking about Dangerous Women.
When married I never cheated on my wife. I am monogamous. So when the divorce finalized, I moved out and ran around the block flapping my hands and hooting like a little boy. Oddly, not something women found appealing. So, I got my bearings, hitched up the old belt (literally) and went out to taste the fruit that had been denied me those many years. That's when I found them. Dangerous Women.
Dangerous women are different from Dangerous Men. They have a different look about them. A look that says: "I boil rabbits".
I joined a dating service. This group had books with pictures and videotapes. What they should have had was a shrink that stamped foreheads with some sort of psychotic ratings system. The first woman I met this way, whom I had to assume knew what I did for a living, started out the date like this:
"You're a teacher? I've never met a teacher before. I don't like them. I think most teachers just go through the motions and don't care if they're screwing up the kids. Don't you agree?"
The entire evening went that way. And while in the movies the couple that engages in such stimulating and heated conversation always end up trying to undress one another over the table, the two of us ended up wishing one another to death.
I picked another woman from the dating service based on looks. Call me shallow. I should have read the description. We met at a restaurant. She sat down, eyes searching my face for something. She finally leaned forward and said: "I think before we start anything, you should know I'm co-dependent. "
I looked up.
"I've been in therapy and the approach that's working best is to not fight the co-dependency . I need to deal with it as a disease. My parents would tell you I had a fine childhood, but they don't know about me. All they saw was that popular little girl in school. They didn't feel my pain. They didn't understand what I had gone through."
I nodded, looking back down at my salad. I'm not a fan of croutons and I found myself working them to the edge of my plate. The lettuce was crisp though.
"I know that I'm too sensitive," she continued. "I get too involved. I need to learn how to make it just me first. I have trouble. I tend to take care of everybody but me. I know I come across as intense sometimes. Do I strike you as intense?"
Oh well, I thought, I would just have to count on eating some of the croutons.
"I feel people should put everything out on the table. We need to know who we are. It's part of a process of self discovery. It's a way of cutting through the red tape and getting in touch with our vulnerable selves..."
I think she is still at the restaurant talking. At night they probably just clean up around her.
One of the most intriguing women I met seemed normal enough until we went to a movie theater. As we were walking along, she pulled me aside and I couldn't help but feeling that we were hiding from something. I challenged her on it.
"I just don't want my husband to see me," she said.
"You said you were divorced?"
"Well, we're seperated."
"So you're not living together?"
"Well, not exactly."
"Your living together?"
"Yes, but we're going to be serparated."
I could smell the rabbit boiling. I could hear the the lambs screaming. I had forgotten what dating was like.